Y'know, I'd fight my way through the tank-topped 45 yr. old biker chicks, mustachioed Camaro-driving losers wearing aviator sunglasses, musty smelling derelicts, tawdry tatooed Starla-esque single moms and such, but there'd probably only be Wadded Beef, Creamed Eels and Corn Nog left by now... Next time a heads-up before the sale, Chach...